She wanted to choose some bridesmaids’ dresses. ‘I don’t want to pour any cold water on your plans but are you sure you’re doing the right thing, Max?’ Bel asked, when Max excitedly told them about the honeymoon she’d booked. And the cake. And the rest. ‘Won’t Stuart go mental?’ ‘No, I’m absolutely as sure as houses that he won’t,’ Max flapped a dismissive hand. ‘Anyway, it’ll be too late to do anything about it when I’m halfway down the aisle in my big frock. He’ll just do his usual rolling of the eyes and go along with it. He’s done that for seventeen years so one more afternoon won’t kill him. He can’t surely expect me – Maxine McBride – to get married in a church without a huge dress. He knows me too well.’ ‘Yeah, but how much further are you going with your plans, Max?’ asked Violet, reaching out for the White Wedding door handle. ‘How much further can she go?’ Bel added. ‘It’ll end in tears if you aren’t careful, Max – and I don’t mean cake ones.’ Freya was unpacking tiaras from white tissue paper when the doorbell announced their arrival.
